August 20, 2009

When you were my age? Healthcare might've "worked" but Vicodin wasn't invented.

In no particular order, I currently “strongly dislike” jackasses, un-manicured nails, and global warming (only because I think polar bears are so damn cute and Noah Wyle told me they are eating each other to survive now, and hot days can really fuck up your hair . . . not mine, but I hate looking at unkempt ‘dos). That being said, I think my generic definition of the word “jackass” really covers most people . . . if you’re being a J.A., of course.

For the intents and purposes of this post however, I’m going to talk about jackasses in relation to the health care debate that’s been stealing precious seconds of my Nancy Grace time every evening. God knows if I miss one second of the stacked-bob delight, I’m done for the night. Now, like most Americans I really didn’t know much about the proposed health care reform bill, and, since we live in the greatest country evs, that doesn’t preclude me from bitching & moaning about it -- even though we’ve got no fucking clue what’s in those 1,000 pages. However, this time, I decided to take a different route. Even though I’ve not read a book in its entirety . . . since, well, ever, I know most of you expected me to skim through and then go on to make my voice heard. Well, you’d be wrong. I did some research, and here’s what I’ve got (not really about the plan itself, but more so, the reaction to the plan).


First, some people are fucking mad. I mean really fucking, belligerently obnoxiously mad. Second, in watching some of the town hall forums, some people are really fucking creative. I mean, taking the picture of Adolf from above your fireplace to create a likeness of Barack that you can tote around? Uh Spain called, they want Pablo Picasso back; like, cut your ear off and you’re practically Van-fucking-Gogh. Amazing. That takes talent (I hope the “Art Institute of America” is eagerly scouting these people, I know good art work when I see it.) As I continued to watch I felt a few things, as follows. Initially, I thought of Aretha Franklin and that silly-ass hat she wore to the inauguration. And then, of course, I thought about respect. I don’t mean respect for others, because, really, what does that get you? But damn, y’all. Respect yo’self before you wreck yo’self. By that I mean, read shit and then make an opinion. Now, seeing as how we aren’t an Asian country, and our academic stealth isn’t what it used to be, some people will do this and still look like fools. But people like us don’t let people like that exist in our worlds, therefore . . . problem solved. IDK, I hate seeing old people (at all) but even more so in distress. Their faces twist up and it makes me think of my grandmother locking me in the basement for days. Whatever.

Call me crazy, but I think if people were more non-Fox News, non-MSNBC -informed, we wouldn’t have shouts about being scared of Barack, Nazism or euthanasia. I mean really, ya’ll? Really? Are we being punked? So, I waited waiting for Ashton to pop out from behind the grandpa that was going on about euthanasia like in WWII, and nothing. Ridic. If I had to make a case for euthanasia, the first example I’d use is the 4:00 p.m. rush hour of old folk I have to sit through when I end my work days; but a close second would be these crazy grandparents at these town hall meetings. Someone should tell grandpa he isn’t doing himself any favors.

The bottom line is that all of the hooting and hollering that goes on during some protesting is just that, bullshit. Or those people are like that guy in Happy Gilmore that got paid to be ignorant. Either way, its just so . . . ugly. Don’t mind if ya don’t.

Anyway, its getting to be 2:30, and I’m going to try to make it home before rush hour.

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